Dark Eldar attack Neron Fleet pt2
by LeeTJenkins
Summary: With the Dark Eldar cruiser, the Idle Torment suddenly and inexplicably destroyed by the mysterious cargo ship, Eli Tahl of the Emaciator must decide whether to continue her assault on the striken vessel on the planet's surface, or flee the system.


Palek Vi was new to the Emaciator and looked forward to his role on the navigation deck. The previous holder of his position had died in one of the endless feuds that riddle yet sustain the city of Commorragh. The chair had moulded to the previous occupant's form through years of use, and it felt strange to Palek, like wearing somebody else's shoes. As he sat in his quasi usurped cracked leather throne he saw the read outs and visuals that told him what he already knew; the Emaciator had passed through the upper atmosphere of Thulu's third planet and was about to start its approach vector to the seemingly stricken vessel below.

On the bridge of the Dark Eldar vessel, shipmaster Eli Tahl continued to brood over the lost prize that Mal Raer was closing in on. Interference from the planet's dusty atmosphere had made his gloating communications all the more insufferable so she'd switched frequencies. The holographic display to the right of her command seat had been similarly dimmed, so it took a startled report from Fin Yak on tactical control duty to bring her out of her musings. "The Idel Torment… it's gone."

"What do you mean, 'gone'?" asked Tahl incredulously. "Surely he's not slipped into the Webway, we've only just got here. Has he boarded?"

Yak contorted to read the sensor array readout behind him to the left while continuing to use a knarled pale index ginger to scroll through the recorded tactical displays, hoping to find the moment the Idel Torment disappeared. "Sensors show a massive energy read around the Torment's target vessel shortly before we lost contact. That, combined with the interference from the upper atmosphere makes it hard to see what happened next."

"Did the Torment deploy any counter measures or fire any of its own weapons?"

"Negative, at least not that we can see. It's possible the target vessel tried to make a run for it, jumping to warp from cold, or venting plasma as a crude defence tactic."

Like all Dark Eldar, Eli Tahl lived with a perpetual schizophrenic attitude to her fellow Archons; one the hand revealing in their failure and demise as rivals, but on the other keenly feeling her own hardwired compulsion for self preservation. If the Idel Torment's target could defend itself seemingly without weapons, so could their quarry on the surface. She could leave, either returning to Commorragh with high tales of overwhelming enemy battlefleets, or try hunting in one of the usual haunts of the Dark Eldar. But that ship... It was so big. So vulnerable. Like all Dark Eldar Tahl could reach out and sense the fear and despair of others, vampiracally feeing off their physic energy. She had yet to sense anything from the ship below, probably the range and atmosphere working against her, but the thought of the hundreds if not thousands of civilians crammed into an incapacitated metal box. Saliva welled in her mouth at the prospect. Her ship was armed, her crew had the advantage of attacking an obviously damaged vessel, and she was a better shipmaster than Mal Raer.

"Maintain course, but slow our approach. That ship isn't going anywhere and I don't want any surprises. Keep a watch for energy spike coming from…"

"MISSILE ALERT!" cried Fin Yak, showing an energy that belied his age. "…make that two, coming from the surface, fast."

"Take evasive action, launch counter measures." Tahl subtly re-illuminated the holographic display and saw the two blinking lights and their course towards her ship. The Corsair Class Cruisers, like many Dark Eldar war fighting tools, were built for agility rather than armour. They can't take punishment, but they can dodge it anything the Imperium, Tau or Orks could throw at them. Only their brother Elda had weapons to match, and that was no Eldar ship.

Through the lower atmosphere two Necron cluster missiles screamed towards the encroaching cruiser. The Viceroy had started life as a semi-luxury cruise liner for the Necronytr middle class. Lacking the hull to accommodate the broadside weapons of the Avarice, the Viceroy, now a troop transport, had been modified to house scores of close-in defensive weapon systems.

Chaff spewed from the underbelly of the Emaciator as it banked violently and ungracefully to port, the searing hot countermeasures designed to confuse heat-seeking missiles into targeting them rather than the ship. Along the decks, missile tubes were opened, but the ship's evasive manoeuvres had thrown off targeting calculations causing critical delays in launch. The last line of defence against missiles were small calibre but rapid fire gun turrets. Like a swarm of fire flies in a sand storm, the turrets showered fire though the grainy atmosphere and into the direction of the oncoming missiles. The closest missile drew the most fire and blossomed into an orange and yellow flower of fire when hit. The flames were whipped asunder by the high altitude winds as the second missile closed range. Radiation seeking rather than heat seeking, the missile's programming ignored the chaff and ploughed into the coming turret fire, already initiating the mechanism that would unleash dozens of smaller missiles, each independently programmed to scatter and continue their one way trip to destruction.

Sweat beaded down the back of Dolem Nata, sitting alongside Fin Yak on fire control. "One missile down. Focusing all turret fire on the second".

Like a magnet laid next to iron filings, the second missile drew turret fire from across the underside and starboard hull of the Emaciator. However it had fulfilled its duty. It birthed its precious cargo seconds before being shredded by laser fire. The absence of an explosion at first didn't register with Nata, simply relived the cylindrical blip on his viewer was gone. It took several moments for him to realise the new threat. "Brace for impact!"

Turret fire had unknowingly scythed through five of the cluster missiles when they tore apart the delivery vehicle, but their siblings now swarmed towards the ship, too numerous to be targeted by the ships guns. The engines, the source of the most radiation, attracted a full third of the deadly payload. They slammed into the exhaust vents first. In the engine compartments themselves, the world turned to fire. The first casualty was simply vaporised as he and the thin hull he crouched next to absorbed the first impact. Further in to the engine deck, white hot missile fragments, discarded hand tools and engine casings shredded one crew member and disemboweld another, his life lingering just long enough to be sucked out of the hull breech by the sudden decompression. In the adjoining compartment, burning lubricant sloshed onto a mechanic, absorbed into her exposed skin and melting her uniform into the rest of her lithe form. Skin, flesh and uniform came away in flaming globules as she clawed at the glue like substance, hysterical shrieks inaudible among the carnage.

On the bridge lights flickered and consol juddered from the impacts. Several sirens whaled like hungry chicks in a nest, each competing against one another warning of a different systems failure. Eli Tahl had somehow remained seated, if in an undignified slouch. She looked at the cross section of the ship on her dataslate embedded in the elongated armrest and immediately knew they were in serious trouble. Orange flashes showed impact warnings, with red flashes identifying full hull breeches and decompression. The Emaciator has been turning away from the missiles, so the front of her ship was relatively unscathed, but as she looked down the length of the ship the spectrum of lights grew progressively more orange, with red blotches riddling the engine section. "All ahead flank! Get us out of here." Palek Vi, unfamiliar with violent flight, had been shunted forward by the blasts, striking his head on the panel above and now felt the warm slick of blood creep down his temple and onto his angular cheek. Swiping the touchscreen display upwards wasn't increasing engine power. He tried the adjoining screen, still to no avail. "Engines not responding."

Tahl swept her dishevelled hair from her forehead and thumbed the comms link above her head. "Engine room. Damage report."

Nothing.

"Engine room, come in." The bridge was silent, all eyes on the speaker, as if by combined mental effort the bridge crew could summon a response.

After five seconds that felt like five millennia, a crackle, followed by an unfamiliar voice. "Engine room." Tahl suppressed an audible sigh of relief; the last thing her crew needed was to see her as afraid. "Where is chief engineer Umna?"

"Which piece of him..?" Tahl allowed herself a smile. It was bordering on insubordination, but if he was calm enough to make wise cracks, he was calm enough to be useful. "To whom am I speaking, and why aren't my engines responding?" "This is Deputy Chief Engineer Vizer, and I shut them down." Anticipating a tirade Vizer continued "The containment field generators were ruptured by the blast. If hadn't shut them down they would have gone critical. They'd have either burnt out for good, or erupted. Primary and secondary engines are off line. We're running on impulse."

Tahl swore under her breath. "Can we repair them?" "…yes" came the hesitant response 'but even once the generators are fixed, we'll have to start the engine spooling from cold. We'll need to put down or achieve orbit just to seal the hulls."

"Very well, newly promoted Chief Engineer Vizer. Can we even get into orbit?"

"Yes, but very slowly. We're running on impulse so we'll have to fly slow and straight to lift ourselves beyond the atmosphere. We'll have nothing in the tank for manoeuvrability."

Eli Tahl new that was a risk she couldn't take. One more salvo like that and they were finished. With all the systems and agility of a full strength ship they'd barley survived one attack, to fly slow and steady was simply asking to be swatted out of the sky. "Navigation, find us a spot to put down, and quickly. Vizer, prepare assembly crews and make an inventory of what you need."

"Don't you want a casualty report?" Enquired Vizer. Eli Tahl had already begun to walk away when she heard Vizer's question. Slowly heeling round, she depressed the transmit button and articulated as well as she could through gritted teeth "unless you want to be added to it, no."

On the observation deck of the Viceroy, unblinking emerald eyes sunken into a silver-grey skull watched the dot in the sky billowing smoke as it started to descend behind the hills to the north west. In the decks below, Necrons hunched over banks of monitoring equipment, algorithms running the variables of wind speed, air pressure and the size, speed and heading of the wounded interloper, overlaying the topological data of the surrounding area. Likely landing sites were being relayed to command nodes. Along stripped out corridors that once echoed with children's laughter and holidaying couple's arguments, hundreds of soulless metallic skeletons wordlessly marched towards waiting transports.


End file.
